


All Bets are On

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, Incest, Romance, Second War with Voldemort, The Quidditch Pitch: More Than Two, Threesome, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-23
Updated: 2009-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Fifty thousand Wizards to choose from and Tonks took home the best of the lot.  Both of them.





	All Bets are On

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> Written for ragdoll's birthday
> 
> Slightly incestious - meaning both brothers are present, but don't touch. 

Emerging from her tent, Nymphadora Tonks surveyed the crowd waiting for the Quidditch World Cup to begin. It was going to be nice to just relax and enjoy an event for once, but her newly honed Auror instincts sometimes made that difficult. All she could think of was the sheer volume of people, many of whom were drinking, and the potential for mayhem. Not that she minded mayhem, but still...

For example, that group in green over there, slugging Firewhiskey and singing Ireland's unofficial team song (the one with the bit about Brigid O'Shea's enthusiastic and creative attempts to cheer the entire team up after their epic loss in 1805.) They were all right now, but another hour or so, they might be lighting their farts on fire and burning down half the tents on the field in the process.  
  
Or _that_ one over there, the pale one with the shifty eyes. He could have been sneaking into tents to steal while their owners were at the match, or peddling dodgy potions to heighten the experience, or looking for a girl who'd had a bit to drink in order to drag her off into the forest. Or he could have just been constipated and looking for the bathroom.  
  
That was the trouble. Tonks found it difficult to just relax and enjoy herself any more, and tonight she really needed it. After tomorrow training was going to turn absolutely brutal, and only if she worked very hard would she qualify this year and finally get to stop fetching and carrying and 'observing.'  
  
Marianne had wandered off to find her family, and Tonks considered looking for her Mum and Dad, but as she'd just seen them the day before, she wasn't in any great hurry. Besides, they'd want her to stay with them, and she'd gone to a lot of trouble to get a tent of her own. Fifty thousand of Europe's finest Wizards (and Witches) in one place, plus high spirits and copious amounts of alcohol and a girl was bound to get lucky, wasn't she?  
  
She ran into a group of her fellow 'Puffs at the water pump, discovering that one of them was not only engaged but (from the looks of it) knocked up, too. She hugged the pair of them, but as she walked away she shook her head. Talk about throwing your life away before it ever got a chance to get started.  
  
Once she'd dispensed with the pail, she started thinking about finding something to eat, because she sure as hell wasn't going to be satisfied with the pot noodles she'd brought. Her nose led her toward a tent selling Bratwurst and sauerkraut, and she walked away from it with a mouth full of savoury sausage and a tall beer in hand, thinking that life didn't get any better than that.   
  
Unless you had one of _those_ to grab onto when the mood struck you, she thought as she waited patiently in the line for Omnioculars. As far as Tonks was concerned, there really was something to be said for Muggle clothes, and the man in front of her filled out his faded jeans rather more nicely than most. It was almost tempting to see if a Knut really would bounce off it, but she reckoned that might not be proper off-duty-not-quite-qualified-Auror behaviour. Then she reluctantly raised up her eyes to the rest of him and nearly kicked herself. She'd actually had her hands on that arse, among other things, but it sure as hell didn't look like that then. The whimsical Hebridean Black twining up his arm was a dead giveaway though; she'd been with him when he got it, after all.  
  
"Wotcher, Chuck," she said. "What the hell have those Romanians done to you? You're twice the size you used to be, and I don't mean you got taller, either." Well, maybe he had, but he still wasn't tall enough to where she had to crane her neck to look at him, thank goodness. Unlike his dishy older brother, who happened to be omygodrightnexttohim. Just as he (the elder brother) unleashed that reallyoughttobeillegal smile of his in her direction, Charlie grinned and pulled her into a hug. It didn't feel quite the same as it used to--the arms were stronger, the shoulders broader and the chest now poked out to squash against her own--but he still smelled just as lovely, and the eyes, though appearing lighter due to the colour on his face, twinkled just the same way they always had. He looked her over, reaching up to twine his fingers around a lock of emerald green hair.  
  
"You look good enough to eat," he finally said, and then gestured toward her brat. "But if you're not going to finish that..."  
  
"Sod off," she said affectionately, trying to avoid looking over at her former Head Boy (and mad crush). "Go get your own. As if your mum didn't send you off with enough to feed the entire stadium. Besides, I'm poor. They hardly pay me enough to keep me in pot noodles."  
  
"As if _your_ mum didn't send you off with enough to feed the entire stadium," he repeated and grinned. "But that looks delicious. Where'd you get it?"  
  
"I'll walk you over after," Tonks replied as they approached the front of the line. Bill spoke in an undertone to the clerk and came away with two sets of Omnioculars.  
  
"So I take it you're for Ireland, then?" Charlie said, mussing her hair.  
  
"Well, you know I'd never root against Ryan," she said, and sighed dramatically, beating her hand on her chest.  
  
Charlie rolled his eyes. "I still say he's a poof," he said, and with the all-too-familiar expression on his face, it was remarkably easy it was to slip back into the girl she'd been at school, sighing over a Quidditch star and making her good mate Charlie jealous in spite of himself.  
  
"Takes one to know one," Tonks said. "So what, you're for Bulgaria? Are they macho enough for you?"  
  
"Dunno who I'm rooting for, actually. Volkov's one of my mate's cousins and we got to watch them practice. They're looking good, especially Krum."  
  
"Care to make a wager?"  
  
"I thought you were poor. Besides, my ickle brothers already tied up all my money in a bet that the Irish would win but Krum would catch the Snitch. I'd like to think I'm going to make a fortune, but I tend to come out the losing end with that pair. Bill here reckons they've got hold of a time turner."  
  
"I'm going to forget I'm practically an Auror and pretend I didn't hear that," Tonks said, and winked at Bill. "That's just the sort of tidbit that would get me in good with Scrimgeour, so consider it an act of friendship."  
  
"Still," she added,”Doesn't have to be money, does it?"  
  
"I'm not putting on a fucking dress again," Charlie said.  
  
Grinning wickedly, Tonks leaned closer. German beer was really strong, apparently, or perhaps she was coming to the conclusion that there was no point trying to round up a total stranger to shag when there was someone perfectly lovely (and more fit than ever) standing right in front of her. Gawd, he smelled nice.  
  
"Could be sexual favors, instead," she whispered, just loud enough to where Bill could hear if he wanted to, which apparently he did because he raised one eyebrow at her and looked as if he was trying not to laugh.  
  
"But it seems to me that there wouldn't be a loser in that proposition," Charlie pointed out logically; though he was beginning to get a very familar gleam in his eyes.  
  
"Oh, I was just thinking that if I lose--which I _won't_ \--I might be persuaded to offer up another blow job. One that isn't interrupted by Professor Snape, hopefully."  
  
Bill laughed at that, startling both of them. "This the one?"  
  
"You arse! You swore you'd never tell!"  
  
Charlie had the decency to look sheepish. "Well, I didn't name names, obviously. And I only said something because he'd heard through the Slytherin prefect that I'd been caught behind the bleachers with another bloke."   
  
"Which you were, technically."  
  
"Well, yeah, but not _during_...She can change, you know," he said to Bill. "Not her bits, of course, but the way she looks, and I reckon she thought that Snape would believe that two blokes were...whatever, sod off, none of your business."  
  
Bill seemed rather fascinated by the exchange or at least he really seemed to be enjoying his brother's discomfiture.  
  
"Actually, I can change my bits, too," she said, and instantly wished she'd kept her mouth shut. "Not that...I mean, I've been asked, of course, but I'm not sure I'd be even functional, and I really don't want to...It's dead helpful for a disguise, sometimes."  
  
"I'm sure it is," Bill said, and bloody hell, to have him looking at her like that, teasing her like that, when all through school he'd hardly seemed to know her name, was nearly making her wet her knickers.  
  
Apparently Charlie didn't like being left out of the conversation. "Anyway, let's get back to that blow job. And if you win?"  
  
"Hmmmm....I always wanted to know if your tongue is as talented as your fingers, Weasley."  
  
"I taught him everything he knows," Bill said.  
  
"Did not," Charlie said, scowling.  
  
"I suspect you were the one who told him he wasn't to leave until we both got off, then. I reckon I owe you for what he did to me in History of Magic the next day."  
  
"Shut it, _Nymphadora_ , he's a bigger gossip than my Auntie Muriel." The tips of Charlie's ears were scarlet at this point, and Tonks was enjoying herself so much that she didn't have the heart to protest the name. Charlie looked between them, and finally said, "A very tempting offer, but I'm sharing my tent with six blokes. Not quite sure my dad wants Ronnie learning about the birds and the bees by practical demonstration."  
  
"Got my own tent," Tonks said. "Plenty of room," she added, trying to avoid looking over at his brother and failing miserably. "And naturally I'll just be sitting there alone after the match, twiddling my thumbs...or whatever else might need twiddling."  
  
Charlie nearly choked on his beer, but his eyes were beginning to darken. "Well, that's a different thing entirely, isn't it?"   
  
Bill, who'd alternating between watching them with interest and squinting at a spot over Charlie's shoulder, winced and held up his hand in sort of a half-hearted wave. "Bugger, its Cousin Alice and she's already spotted us." Turning back to Tonks, he leant forward and and let a slow, dazzling smile spread over his face. "Well, if he doesn't sort out his tackle and take you up on that bet, I will."  
  
"Fuck off, Bill," Charlie said. "Find your own girl."  
  
"Whoever said I'm yours?" Tonks retorted, and laughed, looking at Bill out of the corner of her eye, her cheeks flaming. "You're welcome to come along and critique his performance, of course. Or whatever."  
  
That got Charlie to actually drop his butterbeer, though thankfully it was empty. He shook his head as he scrambled after it and attempted to Vanish it. "I really don't think so."  
  
"What's wrong?" Bill asked, looking highly amused as he Vanished the bottle with a flourish. "S'not as if you aren't used to...er, performing in mixed company. I seem to remember a rather accommodating pair of Portuguese sisters, who-"  
  
Charlie interrupted him. "You were busy at the time, weren't you? Not...staring at me while I was..."  
  
"Oh...then you're worried you won't be able to get it up, are you?"  
  
"Living in the desert has obviously melted your brain."  
  
"Or maybe you're afraid of the competition?"  
  
"Not even close."  
  
Tonks watched the exchange as if she was sitting mid court at a Tennis match. Which she had, actually, but it wasn't anywhere near as entertaining as this (dishy Geman fellow notwithstanding.) "Well, you boys work it out amongst yourselves. Either way, I'll see one--or both of you after the match. H-17. The purple tent, not the gray one." With a kiss on Charlie's cheek and a wink in Bill's direction, she walked away whistling, swaying her hips for their benefit.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
To be perfectly honest, she didn't care much who won the game, not when knew that either option would leave her with a sexy ginger (or two) to play with in her tent.  
  
She was rather looking forward to half an hour under Charlie's ministrations, but on the other hand, Charlie had been her first blow job, and it was almost a matter of pride to show off how much better she'd got at it since then. Besides, she was anxious to get a better look at what a couple of years (and no small amount of hard labour, apparently) had done to change his body. He'd always been fit, but in sort of a dorky, wiry way.

His brother, on the other hand, hadn't needed bulging muscles to draw crowds of simpering women to his side. Those eyes and that smile of his were more than enough, and since he'd left school, he'd added a bit of polish and a hint of danger to the mix.

Charlie was rough around the edges, the sort of boy-well, _man,_ now, really--who promised good company, lots of laughs and a good hard fuck against a wall that would probably make you see stars. Bill, on the other hand, seemed the sort who'd lay on the charm so think you wouldn't remember your own name. But _his_ , that you'd know, because you'd be screaming it at the top of your voice while he did dirty, wrong, very bad things to you.  
  
Or at least that's the way it seemed to work in her fantasies, but wouldn't it be brilliant to find out if she'd got it right or not?

~*~*~*~*~  
  
The match had been everything she'd hoped and more, and it occurred to Tonks that flirting was a hell of a lot more fun when you already knew how your night was going to end. Sort of. Or rather, when you knew your night was going to end well.

In any case, between the excitement of the game, the emotions of the crowd, the alcohol and the shameless flirting that she was doing, Tonks was sort of floating on a cloud as she made her way back to her borrowed tent. Marianne had invited her in to continue the party with some of her boyfriend's Ministry friends, but Tonks was a girl on a mission, and she showered and changed her knickers at least three times as she waited for a knock on her door. No, not because of _that,_ but because of nerves, and an absurd impulse to make a good impression. This wasn't anything like the times she'd messed around with Charlie before, when things had unfolded sort of naturally, when she hadn't really had a chance to dress up and wait for him, dreaming about what might happen.

It was always just Charlie, practically her best mate. She suspected--no, she _knew_ that he really saw her as one of the blokes for the most part, except, well, most of the blokes he knew didn't have tits they were willing to let him feel up every now and again. Nearly everything Charlie and Tonks had done was a result of a succession of dares, but now that she knew a bit more about the world and the way things with girls and boys was supposed to work--that the world wasn't divided between Charlies you could play with and Bills you could only dream of. Charlie was all grown up now andabsolutely gorgeous at that, and _gawd,_ she wanted her hands on him, wanted to explore the changes in him, to work out what put that new steely glint in his eyes and how that lopsided grin had apparently gone from dorky to devastating.  
  
But then again, she was no longer the awkward self-conscious girl who had a tendency to fall flat on her face in the middle of the Great Hall, was she? Yes, she still had a tendency to bump into things, but so would you if you never could be sure that your feet and legs and muscles were the same shape and size they were a few minutes before. Most girls had enough trouble getting comfortable with the changes from girl to woman, but for Tonks, nothing was _ever_ constant. Besides, she'd got into the programme, she was practically an Auror now, and damn good at what she did. Even Shacklebolt had taken the time to compliment her on her wandwork. She was _special_ , unique, talented, and most importantly, comfortable in her own skin. Bill Weasley wasn't out of her league anymore, not by a long shot. If either showed up, she would be happy. But not knowing _which,_ (if any) that was unnerving.   
  
Just as she was contemplating another shower, she heard steps at her door and; "Oi, Tonks, you in there?"  
  
 _Charlie, then,_ she thought, and felt almost relieved. _Almost._ "Come on in, she called out, darting towards the kitchen so she could look busy, at least. _Drinks. Drinks would be good, right?_  
  
Charlie was holding a bottle of rum and carrying a linen-covered plate in his hands. She didn't know what he'd brought, but it smelled pretty good from where she was. And she was touched, too--it was almost like it was a date and he was bringing her a gift. He looked different than he had in the afternoon. Maybe it was the clothes--he was wearing the same jeans, (thank heaven) but the shirt actually had a collar and it looked a lot less wrinkled than she might have expected, given the fact that he'd just attended the biggest sporting event in the Wizarding world. And his hair looked darker too, or maybe it was wet, and maybe he'd taken the trouble to shower away the stink of the crowds. He was still standing near the door flap, watching her looking him up and down with a strange half-smile on his face.

"Disappointed?" he asked, and she focused back on his face, startled. When had his jaw got so sharp, and wouldn't it be fun to kiss along the edges of it?  
  
"Why would I be disappointed? I won the bet didn't I?"  
  
"Yeah, but maybe you were hoping for someone else."  
  
It took her a moment to realize he was talking about his brother, and it struck her as odd that from the moment he walked into the room, she hadn't thought of anything but him and how utterly delicious he looked.  
  
She approached him, smiling, allowing herself to think, for the first time, about how she had him at her mercy, at least for the next hour or so. "Mmmm, no," she said, smiling warmly. "I was just thinking about how utterly gorgeous you've got since the last time I saw you."  
  
When she finally stood face to face with him, she stepped into his embrace, tucking her face into his neck the way she'd done when she missed that goal in the championship third year and felt certain that her entire team hated her guts. But Charlie, her sometimes rival and all-the-time friend, sought her out to comfort her, and to her, that smell, would always make everything right with the world. If anything, he smelled _better,_ because at this point it was clear from his still damp (and completely smooth) cheek that he'd gone to a bit of trouble for her. She took the plate from his hand. "Dessert," he explained. "Mum sent raspberry tarts, and..."

Tonks kissed his cheek, overwhelmed with affection. "You remembered."  
  
She took the plate from his hand and turned back toward the kitchen, needing a moment to compose herself before she turned into a complete sap. "Isn't this the most bizarre tent?" she asked, gesturing toward all the draperies coming off the ceiling. " I always knew that Sarah was a bit of an old hippie, but this is like a cross between a gypsy caravan and a bordello. Stinks of incense too, among other things.

Charlie chuckled, following her toward the kitchen worktop. She set down the plate, uncovered it, and reached to take his offered bottle. "You ready for a drink?" she asked, breaking the seal.

"Could be," he answered, and shifted on his feet, looking from her to the kitchen and back toward the bed and shaking his head. "It really is a bit much, isn't it? And I've been in a gypsy caravan."  
  
She snickered. "I'll bet you have."  
  
"Jealous?"  
  
"Of course. I've been waiting by my floo for you for going on five years, haven't I?"  
  
"Course you have," he said. "Which is why you were hitting on my brother."  
  
"I was not," she protested, but the feigned hurt on his face dissolved into a sly smile. "Go sit down, you _git_...on the sofa."  
  
"Did it bother you?" she asked after he complied, dropping ice into a couple of glasses and filling them with mixer  
  
"Didn't bother me back at school, so why should it now?"  
  
 _Hmm,_ she thought, and plopped down next to him, taking a long pull from one of the drinks she'd poured.  
  
"Wicked match, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. Dunno how the twins called it the way they did. I should know better than to bet against them by now."  
  
There, now they were skirting around the purpose of his visit, but surprisingly, she wasn't quite ready yet. "So, what, they're seventeen now?"  
  
"Sixteen. A pair of April Fools."  
  
Tonks shook her head. "Hard to imagine. I remember them being so small. Loud, brutal, dangerous, but tiny, really."  
  
Charlie nodded, and coughed slightly, looking around again. They'd never used to feel the need to fill silences with pointless conversation, but this was skirting close to awkward.

"So. Are you hungry?" she asked, thinking about the tarts.  
  
Charlie looked a lot more amused by the question than she thought he'd be. _Oh, wait, wrong way to put it,_ she thought, and found her cheeks burning again. She screwed her eyes shut, concentrating to soften the effect. Charlie reached out to touch her face, and her stomach started doing acrobatics.  
  
"I didn't mean _that_ —but now you mention it..." Heavens, it was getting hot in here.   
  
They heard another footstep at the door, and Tonks shook her head to reassure him. "Probably the party my mate is having next door. We could go for a bit, if you like."  
  
"I’m happy where I am," he said, and pressed a little closer, letting his lips just barely brush across hers. She was concentrating on holding onto her drink, but she was about ready to toss it in the fireplace like her mad Greek cousin.  
  
They heard yet another footstep, this one even closer to the doorflap, and Tonks took advantage of Charlie's momentary distraction to set aside her drink, miraculously not spilling it.  
  
"Wrong tent," she called out.  
  
"I don't think so," was the reply, and in a voice that suddenly sent every nerve in her body on high alert.  
  
"He _didn't."_  
  
Charlie grinned. "You asked him."  
  
"But, but...I thought-"  
  
"You're better off _not_ thinking, I reckon," Charlie said. "Both of us are."  
  
"You’re not really thinking of...  
  
"Come on in, Bilius, the water's warm," Charlie called out, and Tonks buried her head in his neck again, mortified. Charlie was stroking at her spine, and she could feel his voice coming up from his chest and through his throat as he greeted his brother.  
  
"You and your long showers He always takes all the hot water," Charlie said to Tonks.  
  
"Well, this time you took all the hot water. Took the hot girl, too."  
  
Tonks found herself giggling, but when she looked up towards Bill, she could hardly meet his eyes.  
  
"Hi," she finally said, sounding about twelve years old.  
  
"Hey," he said with surprising warmth in his voice. He strode into the room, bold as brass, making his way toward the kitchen, where he picked up a tart off the table and took a bite.   
  
"This is much nicer than our tent. Ours smells of cats."

"And cabbages," Charlie grumbled.  
  
"This just smells like Trelawnley's class. Incense, probably. Sandalwood and musk."  
  
"And weed," Charlie added.  
  
"Not a chance they left any, is there?" Bill asked hopefully.  
  
Charlie lifted up Tonks' chin to give her a questioning look.  
  
"Sorry, no," she replied. "Don't think so."  
  
"Too bad," Charlie said, smiling down at her reassuringly and kissing the tip of her nose. "I think our hostess is nervous."  
  
Bill shook his head. "I thought I gave you a head start. What have you been doing all this time, Chuckie?"  
  
"Talking," he replied.   
  
"Tsk, tsk, I think she could come up with better things to occupy your tongue," Bill said, laughing and causing Tonks to let out an embarrassed squeak before hiding her face again.  
  
Bill strode back over the couch and stood before them, the very picture of confidence and wry amusement. Squatting down on his haunches, he tilted his head to get Tonks to look him in they eye. "Do you want me to go?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle and soothing.  
  
She couldn't do anything but shake her head.  
  
"Good," he said, and picked up her drink from the coffee table. "That's settled," He took a sip, eyeing her speculatively over the rim of the glass.  
  
Charlie tightened his arm around her. He was still tracing lines on her spine with his finger, but he reached up with his other hand to touch her cheek, turning her face up towards his.  
  
"You all right, love?"  
  
She nodded, though she was having a hard time meeting his eyes.  
  
Charlie leaned forward and kissed her, and as she exhaled, she found herself leaning toward him, wanting to melt against him and disappear.  
  
She'd snogged in public a hundred times before, but there was a big difference between doing it in a crowded bar or in a crowded common room and doing it in the presence of and possibly for the benefit of one person. Or two, she thought, and wrapped her arms around Charlie, noticing that it wasn't as easy as it used to be to make her hands meet in the back. _Damn,_ he was solid. Solid and dependable and sexy as hell when he was doing that thing with his tongue and his teeth and _gawd,_ he smelled nice and tasted better. For a minute, she forgot that they weren't alone. Then he pulled back, and she opened her eyes, one hand still wrapped around the back of his neck and fingering the short, damp prickly hair there.  
  
"Well, that’s a good start," Bill said, and rose to his feet, sitting down on her other side. For a moment, Tonks felt as if she'd been petrified. He didn't touch her, but he leaned back, crossed one leg over a knee while he sipped at her drink.  
  
"Don't mind me," he said, and to her utter mortification she found herself giggling again. Charlie laughed under his breath. "Yeah, that's easy, isn't it? She's only got the jolly red giant sitting next to her, leering."  
  
"I'm not leering," Bill said. "I'm admiring. The pink suits you, by the way," he added, and Tonks finally got the nerve to meet his eyes, her hand going up to her hair in a mindless gesture.  
  
Bill reached out for that hand and drew it close, putting his other hand over it in a gesture of reassurance or something. "I won't touch you unless you want me to. And if you ever want me to leave, all you have to do is ask."  
  
She nodded, still unable to speak, and then Charlie bent forward to kiss at her neck. She closed her eyes, leaning back into him, sighing softly at the contact.  
  
"Lights," Bill said sounding for all the world as if he was the director of a play. He drew his wand, softening the glare of the candles hovering in the air. It did help--she felt less exposed, but she was still nervous as hell. But Bill was still holding her hand and Charlie reached up to turn her face towards him, kissing her even as he started to slide down on the sofa toward the floor. When he released her from the kiss, she closed her eyes and sank back, unable to keep her hands from shaking. Bill was stroking her wrist, and Charlie was stroking her thigh, and to her already overwrought nerves it was almost as much pleasure as pain.

Charlie planted kisses along her neck and down her chest, letting his hand lightly skim her breasts through her jumper. The familiar hand on her thigh began inching her skirt up, his thumb making slow circles on the bare skin. It was almost enough to make her unclench her legs but not quite.  
  
The pressure that Bill was exerting on her wrist increased as Charlie's fingers went higher. At the first touch of his lips on her thigh, she moaned softly and opened her knees. Bill exhaled and Charlie turned his head to suck softly at the newly exposed skin. Tonks managed to open her eyes and look down and admire his bright, familiar head, feeling a wave of affection and a jolt of lust. The nerves that seemed to have taken over her body seemed to settle into buzzing excitement. She was still shaking, though, and she leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes, still finding it hard to believe she was _here,_ with Charlie, and that Bill Weasley was just sitting there, watching her.   
  
If it hadn't been for the hand on her wrist, she might have thought that she was dreaming, but she definitely felt him there, felt the warmth of his body on one side of her, heard his breathing, which was growing steadily heavier with each passing moment. She could smell his shampoo (or aftershave potion or _something_ ) but whatever it was, it was delicious and she'd have bet money that _he_ was delicious, too. And then oh, _shit,_ Charlie was there, nuzzling between her legs and without even thinking about it, she scooted further down the sofa and opened her legs wide like some sort of...well, certainly not a slut--any _normal_ person with working hormones would certainly have been right there, doing exactly what she was doing if given the opportunity, and oh, _holy fuck,_ Charlie's thumb was making deliberate circles on her through her knickers and Bill's thumb was doing the same to her wrist. It occured to her that maybe there some sort of connection in the nerves between those two places because it felt absolutely fucking brilliant, and then Charlie nudged aside her knickers and let one of his fingers brush back and forth against her cunt and she hissed and swore under her breath, making Bill shift slightly in his seat.

She finally opened her eyes and looked down at Charlie, who was grinning up at her, _teasing,_ the stupid git, and he was bloody fucking gorgeous, and was he really going to sit there, eating her out, fully clothed while his brother just sat there and watched? And really, that would be fucking awesome but also sort of a shame because Tonks really, really wanted to see him naked after all this time. _Charlie,_ that was, though she wouldn't have objected to Bill, come to think of it.   
  
"Take off your clothes," she demanded, almost without thinking, and both men looked at her quizzically. "Charlie, I mean," she said, and then it occurred to her that she'd just thrown away a priceless opportunity, but she still wasn't sure what Bill planned on doing, if anything.

Charlie wiggled out of his shirt before it was even unbuttoned all the way, and she had to bite her lip to keep from gasping. It was Charlie, _her_ Charlie, but it wasn't--this man was harder and broader and bulkier and he had shoulders that looked like something you'd see on one of those Greek statues and good god, his arms had nearly doubled in size. And he was marked, too--everywhere, and not just the tattoos (of which there were now four, not one, and who the hell had he gone to get the others with, anyway?) How had he got that shiny patch of burned skin on his shoulders and how much had that hurt--and that jagged raised line on his stomach could have been from a knife or a dragon's tail or even a hex. This wasn't _her_ Charlie, not really, not anymore, he was someone that she hardly knew and he was as exciting as hell.  
  
He hardly seemed to hesitate, once the shirt was dropped on the floor. Well his brother had to have seen it all before anyway, right? But _gawd,_ that little dent where some men had love handles and those narrow hips, and _holy shit,_ apparently Charlie was _really_ into this, which was sort of reassuring because she didn't really fancy the idea of him thinking this was a penance. And then he was tugging down her skirt and taking her knickers along with it, and she supposed she ought to have been more embarrassed that she was sitting there bare-arsed, legs spread, still wearing her stupid combat boots while Bill and Charlie Weasley inspected her girly bits. Well, not really _inspected,_ just looked, but she felt so _naked,_ except she really was naked, come to think of it, or half so, and then suddenly Charlie wasn't looking any more, he'd just pressed his face between her legs and started licking, and oh, holy hell, it was fucking brilliant.

She arched her back away from the couch and moaned, and at the very least now Charlie's face was covering her up, though did she really care when BillFuckingWeasley was sitting there next to her, still holding her hand, but with only one hand now, because the other one was covering his crotch, and had she actually given him a hard on?  
  
Charlie nudged her legs open wider and she scooted her bum down to give him better access, and she buried her fingers in his hair, looking down to see his eyes on her, smiling at her, maybe even laughing, and she had to smile herself-- _gawd_ she missed the way he seemed to be able to read her mind, or maybe he was just laughing about the way her hand still shook in his brother's, but bloody hell, his fingers kept stroking her, a little further up her wrist every time. She cried out loud when Charlie hit a particularly good spot, and she wondered what he'd been doing since she last saw him that he'd gotten so self-assured. Five years ago he'd have been stopping to laugh at the the absurdity of what they were doing or to ask her if he was doing it right fifty times, and then she had to stop herself from wondering who else he'd been learning from and wanting to either thank them profusely or beat the bitches to a bloody pulp.

But then Bill was making his presence known--the grip on her wrist was getting stronger, and the mildly amused look in his eyes was turning into something that looked like desire or maybe even hunger, and as Tonks wrapped a leg around Charlie's back and touched one of her breasts with her free hand, Bill pulled her wrist up to his mouth and licked at it, sending shivers up her arm. He looked down at Charlie and winked, saying, "Well, Charles, I can't fault your technique, but your follow up leaves something to be desired. Altogether too silent for me. Don't you know that girls like to be wooed?  
  
"Fuck off, Bill," Charlie said, taking a break for a moment and replacing his tongue with his fingers, which felt...well, bloody brilliant, actually.  
  
"And you hardly kissed her at all, come to think of it," Bill said, drawing her arm even closer, kissing the inside of her elbow. Tonks moaned, pressing down onto Charlie's fingers.  
  
"She didn't ask for kissing, did she?" Charlie pointed out.  
  
"Have I taught you nothing? They rarely ask for what they want. They want you to work it out. Sort of like a quest. And you always did want to be Sir Galahad or the green night or whatever. Whichever one had dragons in it."

Charlie, apparently choosing to ignore him, reached up with his other hand to cup Tonks' breast. She sighed in pleasure, looking from one to the other until Charlie finally spoke up.  
  
"Besides, you may think you know women, but you don't know _this_ one, and she'd have laughed me out of the room if I'd tried to seduce her. My girl hates that sort of thing."  
  
"Maybe," Bill said. "But she still deserves to know that you think she's beautiful, gorgeous, the sexiest thing you've ever laid eyes on." He was moving up her arm now, planting kisses along the way. "She deserves kisses and caresses and pretty words before you head straight for the main course."

Tonks had to laugh at that, and turned to Bill, who took advantage of her distraction to press forward and kiss her.  
  
"God," she moaned, and sighed against his lips. Charlie, apparently spurred into action by her momentary distraction, put his mouth back up against her cunt and took a long, slow lick, making her whimper into his brother's mouth.

Bill coaxed open her lips, sliding his tongue against hers even as his brother slid his tongue inside her. She thought she must have died and gone to heaven. Bill finally let go of her wrist, reaching instead for the breast that Charlie wasn't playing with, caressing it gently, rolling the nipple between his fingers.  
  
Charlie was kneading with his hand, letting his thumb brush back and forth across the other nipple.  
  
"Beautiful," Bill whispered against her lips, and Charlie murmured agreement (or possibly objection, it was hard to tell, but whatever it was it felt fucking fantastic) against her more sensitive bits, and she wrapped her other leg around him, reaching down with one hand to explore Charlie's neck and shoulders and up with the other to touch Bill's face. Bill's fingers slid over her jumper, pushing it up and moving her bra aside, too. He leaned even closer, bending low to kiss her breast, circling the nipple with his tongue and drawing it between his lips.

No, _this_ was heaven, she thought, and began to fumble with Bill's clothes, a bit startled that Charlie didn't seem to have any objections. Bill helped her along, drawing his shirt and his vest over his head within moments and moving back pull her into an embrace, which was sort of twisting her back a bit, but she wasn't about to put a stop to it. And then he was bending lower and sucking at her nipple, and Charlie was feeling up her bare tits again after so many years, but he handled them differently, more familiarly, his fingers rough from calluses, but surprisingly gentle as he stroked the sensitive skin.  
  
She began to struggle with Bill's jeans and he got up onto his knees on the sofa, but before he could push them fully down over his hips, she'd grasped his cock and pulled him close, close enough to where she could lick at the tip, though only just barely. After swearing sharply, Bill was back down at her face again, kissing her harder, his hands buried in her hair and holding her steady as he gently assaulted her mouth, hitting her from every angle, making her squirm in her seat and wrap her legs tighter around Charlie, who had his tongue all the way up inside her now. His fingers were still working at her, sliding around her slippery folds, pressing down on her clit, teasing her arse.  
  
She was kissing Bill and stroking at his cock, and Charlie pulled out and said, "Well, that hardly seems fair."

Bill told him to shut up and keep at it until he got the job done properly, and Tonks could feel Charlie grinning against her and she almost laughed, but she was so close to coming then and there that she could do little more than whimper.  
  
She stroked Charlie's face again, and fuck _,_ he felt so bloody good and Bill tasted so good, and she was absolutely soaking Charlie's fingers and lips. She pulled away from Bill's mouth, reckoning that if she was really going to do something like this, it was well past time to take matters in her own hands, so to speak, so she drew Bill back up to his knees and turned to lick at his cock, and she felt Charlie pause for a moment, looking up at them, his fingers still working against her.  
  
"That blow job was _mine,_ I'll have you know," Charlie grumbled.  
  
"Never bet against the twins," Bill admonished playfully. Touching Tonks' face as she tried to get more of him between her lips, he moved forward to press into her mouth, groaning at the contact. Charlie hissed against her and started lapping rather desperately, and she felt her blood pulsing all though her body but especially down there, and _bloody hell,_ she didn’t know how much more she could take without bursting into flame.

Charlie abruptly pulled away and got to his feet, and for a moment she wondered if he wasn't going to tell Bill to sod off and leave them alone. Indeed, he pulled her away from Bill, but then he drew her down to the floor and with a great deal of strength and very little finesse, he positioned her on her knees, where he pressed his face into her, making her gasp. Bill swore under his breath, and scrambled down to join them, sliding his cock into her mouth again. It took her a moment to realize that Charlie's mouth was gone, but then he was filling her, it was way fucking better than she'd imagined all those years ago--he was familiar and exciting at the same time, because when he pulled her by the hips and slammed into her, he practically lifted her off the ground.   
  
Shit, she really _was_ seeing stars-- white patches on the edge of her eyes as the pleasure overcame her, and Charlie, _her_ Charlie was fucking her into Bill's cock, with every motion of his hips he was making her take him deeper, and Bill was pressing her back into Charlie. When she finally took a breath and looked at Charlie over her shoulder, he was so fucking gorgeous, so intense, nothing at all like the sweet boy she knew--a man, an _animal,_ even, and _Bill--_ Bill was everything she'd ever imagined and more, and stroking her face, whispering words of praise about her hair, her eyes, her arse, her lips (mostly her lips) and how fucking good she felt, how bloody gorgeous she looked like that.  
  
And then suddenly it all overwhelmed her, and she felt the lights behind her eyelids exploding, and all the blood in her body went between her legs, pulsing and squeezing and soaking around Charlie’s cock, and still he kept going, and she was gasping for air and holding Bill's cock, stroking it and licking at the tip with her tongue, letting all the moans she'd been holding in out, screaming, praying that her voice wouldn't break the silencing spell, because if Marianne came running over and saw her like this she'd never hear the end of it.  
  
Charlie drove into her hard and very nearly howled, and she licked at Bill even harder as Charlie gripped her hips with strong fingers. Bill began to stroke himself over her fingers, his motions lightning quick, and as Charlie pulled away, she took more of him in her mouth, and before long, he was pulsing into the back of her throat, pulling hard at her hair, swearing a steady stream. She took it all in, trying to stay up on knees that wanted to collapse, and but when he finally pulled out of her, she curled up on the floor, still overwhelmed by sensation.   
  
_"Fuck,"_ Charlie said behind her, and sat back on his haunches, stroking her spine as she curled up into a ball on the floor.  
  
"Charming, Charlie," Bill said, and reached down to stroke her hair again, grinning down at her and rolling his eyes at his brother.  
  
 _"Fucking_ charming," Tonks said, and closed her eyes, rolling onto her back, feeling deliciously depraved. "Best World Cup ever."

Charlie picked her up and moved over to the sofa, plopping down with a grunt. She landed in a heap on his lap, but curled into him, soothed by his warmth and solidity. After kissing her thoroughly (holy hell, where had he learned to do that with his tongue?) Charlie turned to his brother. "The thing you don't know about Tonks, Professor Weasley, is that she _does_ like the romance. She just prefers to get to the good stuff first."  
  
"Is that so?" Bill said, climbing up next to them on the sofa and laying a hand on her bottom. I still think you're making a few assumptions, about her, though. So tell me, Miss Tonks, which way did you like better?"  
  
Tonks looked from one to the other, feeling her cheeks heat up again.  
  
"I think this requires more research, actually," she said, tucking her head into Charlie's neck again.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Just as she was beginning to relax and really enjoy her afterglow, there was horrific bang outside. Charlie and Bill jumped up, rushing to the door to see what was happening. Tonks was running for her wand, but when she finally got there, she discovered to her horror that there were flames shooting up into the sky, and an ominous roar was approaching.  
  
"What the fuck?"   
  
Charlie was scrambling back to grab his clothes, even as Tonks and Bill did the same. "Charlie," Bill said. "Dad, the kids..."

"Yeah," Charlie said, seemingly torn between his desire see that his family was safe and the desire to run off with Tonks and help with the... _whatever_ it was. Riot, maybe?

"Let's go, he said. "Come on. We promised Mum...Tonks, tell us where to go when you get there. Use a Patronus."  
  
Tonks nodded, swearing in a steady stream, because she was scared shitless and her underwear was nowhere to be found, but she had her wand and most of her clothes on, so she was off like a shot.


End file.
